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A Steak Sandwich In The Suburban Jungle
A Steak Sandwich In The Suburban Jungle By Christopher J. Bradley 9/10/01 11:18:29 PM Tonight after a visit to the doctor And a trip to the post office to mail items auctioned At a profit of less than zero On the commerce rails of e-bay I ventured with my aunt and her grand schemes To the mall in Cheektowaga Under the assumption that we were going to pick up glasses. The optical shop at JC Penney's resides beneath a large parking awning At the side of the mall And allowed easy access for my aunt who walks with a cane. I parked the car and finished a cigarette before following her inside. The store smelled like cloth and salon gel as I entered the foyer I went quickly to the restroom When leaving a father and young son debated over which stall to use. I remember having the same conversation with my father And having the same conversation again with my young brother In public. This choice is something men secretly learn to despise when older I believe. It is unfortunate that in the twenty first century we still are not a cleaner people. With a towel in my hands I left them to their concerns. In the optical shop I cleaned my face of blackheads in the mirror While listening to my aunt complain about the glasses she had purchased. I knew her secret. I thought she believed she could get a better deal elsewhere. I was quiet as I was expected to be But inside I wanted to scream What is this madness? To order custom lenses and frames and then expect to return them? People aged twenty-eight are never permitted that sort of luxury. In any case the optical shop was left promptly And I drove her past Buca Di Beppo's A place where I'd had a festive dinner with friends She noticed a sign that said Health Department Inspected And I laughed As if other restaurants weren't. We kept driving And in mid travel agreed on Pizzeria UNO A place conveniently traveled to by Millersport and a short cut That turned out to be not so short Where we discussed the menu at length And I found a steak sandwich That suited me just fine. I used A1 Which I told her I'd gotten into the habit of using At Bob Evans With the Steak and Eggs Special. I used the sauce liberally and enjoyed every bite Especially the cooked mushrooms onions and peppers. I wanted to tell her how much the sandwich reminded me of Chicago But it would have seemed redundant As she already knew it was a Chicago chain. I thought back to eating Breaded Steak Sandwiches With Bear and the other Sig Ep Brothers And going on a burrito run while listening to Jane's Addiction With Parry Farrell screaming "Coming Down The Mountain." In the back seat of a packed Honda. I don't believe there is ever a time I felt more of a part of a group Outside of the days when I co-ordinated the BBS'ers in high school. I felt equal and free and nervous The blackness of the Jazz city at night Took me in and I was safe there with the other explorers of our generation. But to describe this in a moment How would it have been possible And to someone so set I would have needed an hour. Maybe introducing her to books was enough for a night After dinner I took her to Barnes and Noble for coffee And we shared some words about design And heroic accidents And drank caramel coffee With any luck we can do this again. And without as many rifts. Maybe by the time the next time comes She'll have already dealt with the glasses. Category:Catalog